


Must Be More to Life (Than Having Salami)

by Zabbers



Category: Higglety Pigglety Pop!
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zabbers/pseuds/Zabbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Salami was Jennie's favorite. Please read the notes first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must Be More to Life (Than Having Salami)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this is obscenity or philosophy. A travesty or a transformation. It was, originally, an attempt at a kink bingo square, the only one that ever got this far. The square was food. Jennie is a dog.

Salami was Jennie's favorite. As she lay in the dark forest dreaming of the things she had lost--of the pillows and the eyedrops and the eardrops and the black leather bag with gold buckles and the two windows; in short, of Everything--her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to salami.

To the sweet, porcine saltiness of it. To the oil that issued from it like a savory nectar, clear and thick so it would coat her tongue and throat and make her slick and warm inside. To meat.

With her eyes closed and the light gone, she could taste the ghost of it in her mouth, between her lips, under her teeth. She could feel its texture: sliced, the stained-glass of red flesh and peppered flecks and white, fat squares that melted into an evanescent film of pleasure when she knelt and begged for it like the communion wafer, rapt for the moment the sacrament was placed on the waiting altar of her tongue; whole, the featureless cylinder that resisted her bite, no matter how sharp, filled her jaws with its insistent shape, yielded its flavor, still unctuous, still salt-sweet, only as reward for devoted (gnawing) persistence.

Yes, Jennie loved salami. She loved the scent and the taste of salami and the texture and the size of salami, and most of all she loved the way it felt inside her, like she would never feel the need to seek out anything Else, like she could never be discontented. She didn't need to possess it, only to consume it, and once consumed, it could never be lost. Never be unraveled or smashed or broken by any Baby.

And it was delicious.

More delicious than eggs and milk. More delicious than sandwiches from a sandwich board. More delicious, even, than pancakes dripping with golden syrup.

And though she now had nothing, though she lay alone in the cold, dark woods, Jennie's mouth was wet at the very thought of it. In her half-dream, whimpering half-lucid over the thought of a salami, her tail wagged and her eyes lit up as only a terrier's eyes could. At that moment, she knew that there could be nothing more to life, nothing, than having something so simple, so obvious. 

What did it matter--whether she had Everything (or nothing).


End file.
